


Head Above Water

by WroughtBetwixt



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barry Isn't Cheating On Iris FYI This Is Just How He Is, Chronic Illness, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Foe Yay, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Protective Barry Allen, Queer Barry Allen, Secret Identity Fail, Secret Relationship, Sickfic, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22638595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WroughtBetwixt/pseuds/WroughtBetwixt
Summary: It's difficult for Barry to hate Ramsey, when he's seen Ramsey at his weakest moments. It's more difficult still, when-- in those moments-- it's Barry that Ramsey calls.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Ramsey Rosso
Kudos: 12





	Head Above Water

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write something soft for these two nerds. Here’s a little canon divergence, where things aren’t so combative between them, their identities aren’t exactly secret, and Barry’s being that Paragon we adore.

The phone rang at 4am.

“Barry?” Ramsey’s voice on the other end of the line was weak. Strained. “Please…”

He didn’t need to finish the thought. Barry was already up and out of bed, and he was at Ramsey’s door in less than five minutes. Ramsey never asked how Barry got there so quickly; they never talked about any of it, because in the end, Barry knew that they both knew the truth. Neither were ready to broach that topic. Not yet. It didn’t matter. Not on nights like this.

Ramsey was curled up on the floor in the hallway, just off the bedroom. At least this time, he’d had his phone with him. Barry knelt on the floor next to him, gently brushing his hair from his face. He was still breathing fast, and his muscles were twitching every so often, but he looked awake. “Ramsey? Can you hear me?”

“Mm. You came.”

“Of course I did. Does anything hurt?”

Ramsey didn’t answer at first, his eyes not quite focusing on Barry when he gazed up. “Hit my head on the floor,” he finally answered. “Not hard. Felt it coming on, laid down too fast.”

Barry frowned. That wasn’t good, but for now, it wasn’t an emergency. “Alright. Are you ready to try getting up, at least? See how you feel?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m… I’m ready.”

Carefully, Barry slid his arm around Ramsey’s waist and helped him to his feet. It was slow going, but that’s how things were, now. It had been two months since Ramsey had come to Barry seeking help for a cure; it had been two months since Caitlin had run various trials to try and create one. All the while, Ramsey’s condition declined. It had started out as bruising, and then had turned into rashes, fatigue, fevers, and in the last month, seizures. Ramsey had been out running amok on his own, trying to find a cure himself behind Barry’s back and in… well, unsavory ways, but Barry didn’t hate him for it. He was dying, and he was scared. Not that such things were an excuse, but it was a reason. An understandable one.

For whatever reason, Ramsey had turned to Barry as things got worse. A strange choice, considering Ramsey knew Barry was the Flash and Barry knew Ramsey was Bloodwork, but Caitlin had pointed out that Barry had a tendency to adopt most of his villains. Ramsey was no different. He needed help, and Barry never turned people away— not even enemies. 

“Enemies” was a strong term now, Barry felt. Especially as he was helping Ramsey into the bathroom, peeling the clothes from his shivering body while the bathtub filled with perfectly warm water. Barry left Ramsey sitting on the closed toilet, picking out loose, comfy, and fresh clothing from the closet, and brought it back to the bathroom. He stayed while Ramsey dipped into the bath, soaking his sore muscles in the jasmine scented water. Once he was done, Barry helped Ramsey back out, steadying him while he dried off and slipped on fuzzy pajama pants and a loose sweater. 

“The usual?” Barry asked as they nestled together on the sofa. 

Ramsey nodded, and Barry pulled up the movie _You’ve Got Mail_ on the television. He tugged a blanket over them both as Ramsey snuggled in. This had been their routine for weeks now, and like every time before, they both fell asleep halfway through. It was nine o’ clock in the morning when Barry woke up again; he was always the first one awake, and his neck and back were stiff as boards, but it didn’t matter. Speed healing would take care of it in ten minutes flat, and even if it wouldn’t, it was worth it to hear the soft, little snores coming from the meta human burrowed against his chest.

Barry rested his chin on Ramsey’s head and breathed in the lingering floral scent that clung to the man’s skin. With the sun rising and casting long beams of golden and pink light across the apartment, things almost felt normal, just for that little bit. Peaceful. He stroked along Ramsey’s back, closing his eyes and waiting. It was about an hour later that Ramsey stirred, stretching and trying— but failing— to stifle a yawn. 

“Morning,” Barry greeted with a small smile. “Breakfast?”

Ramsey let out a muffled hum of pleasure. “Please.”

He let Barry up, and Barry padded into the kitchen to get started. Opening the fridge revealed two distinct kinds of food. Traditional American breakfast foods— bacon, eggs, syrup, pancake mix, and juice— sat on one section of the fridge, while traditional Indian foods sat on another. Barry blinked at his favorite foods. He hadn’t bought them. But there they were, and in plentiful quantities. Barry felt warmth curl in his chest as he got out various supplies, and began whipping together something different. A few omelettes for himself, and some other stuff, nothing fancy. Ramsey’s breakfast, on the other hand, was a bit more special. Barry had looked up a few comfort food recipes over the last two weeks, stuff that Ramsey had mentioned his mother making for him when he’d been sick as a kid.

Pongal was simple enough. Rice, lentils, and a handful of herbs and spices. It took a longer time than some breakfast foods, but it was easy on the stomach and delicious. Win/win. The room began to fill with the scent of cumin, ginger, and pepper as Barry cooked, and he grinned a little as Ramsey peeked over the back of the sofa at him, silent but curious. 

When Barry brought over their breakfasts, he couldn’t help but chuckle as Ramsey’s eyes lit up. “I thought maybe you’d like something familiar.”

“You thought right,” Ramsey said as he accepted his plate. “How did you know to make this?”

“Looked it up online after you mentioned it. It’s pretty easy.”

Ramsey gazed at Barry for a long moment. “I can’t believe you, sometimes.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Not at all.”

But then Ramsey began to eat, so Barry followed suit, without further discussion. Once they were both done, they headed into the kitchen together to wash the dishes. Another quiet activity, but Barry didn’t mind. They didn’t need to fill the air with chatter, and Ramsey was never talkative after an episode, anyways. At this point, it was customary for Barry to dry and put away the dishes, make sure Ramsey was alright, and then leave. 

Once the dishes had been out away, Barry hovered in the doorway of Ramsey’s apartment. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked. “I made you some extra food for later.”

“I’ll be alright. Thank you. I really do appreciate all of this.”

Barry hesitated, then reached out to stroke his thumb across Ramsey’s cheek. “I know things aren’t great right now, but I want you to know that no matter what’s going on… you know, out there in the world… I’m here for you. Okay? I want to help you.”

For a moment, Ramsey just searched Barry’s face, conflict and pain evident in his eyes. Barry thought he was going to say something, finally come clean maybe, but then Ramsey was leaning in and pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. Melting against Ramsey, Barry kissed back. He could still taste the ginger on Ramsey’s tongue as the kiss turned into something deeper, something desperate and longing. When they finally parted, Ramsey’s breathing was ragged, and Barry could feel tension in the air between them.

“Stay,” Ramsey said. Not a question, but there was a plea in his tone. “Just for a while longer.”

It wasn’t a good idea. Barry could tell just by looking into Ramsey’s eyes what he was thinking, and Barry knew that if Ramsey asked for more, he would happily give it. Where would that leave them, each being who they were? How would that change things? Would it? Barry knew he should leave, and not risk complicating matters. Even if it was for someone who needed him, someone who wanted so badly to not feel sick, helpless, and alone. It was too much of a risk.

… Right?

After a moment of thought, Barry stepped back inside the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Sometimes, risks were worth taking.


End file.
